


Sweet Honey Lord

by Hotspur



Category: Henry IV Part 1 - Shakespeare, Henry IV Part 2 - Shakespeare, Henry V - Shakespeare
Genre: 2014 RSC Henry IV, Alex Hassell, F/M, Fluff, Hal/Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of ambiguous time spanning, Reader-Insert, Spans Henry IV through Henry V, historical setting, sweet-talking Hal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6135985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotspur/pseuds/Hotspur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On your first night in London you meet a handsome young man in the pub.</p><p>A sweet, fluffy reader-insert story featuring Prince Hal as played by the RSC's Alex Hassell, and of course you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caelidra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caelidra/gifts).



> Usually I don't write reader-insert but I wanted to write a Hal/Reader for my best friend so here you go. If I'm given any more ideas, I might continue it. The Hal in this story is Alex Hassell, who plays an amazing Prince in the History Cycle at the RSC, 2014-present. He's the best Hal.

"You seem new here," the young man says, sitting down at the table across from you. "I haven't seen you around before." 

"I just came into London today," you reply. "I'm staying here for the night." The man talking to you is tall and thin, although you can see that he's well-built through his white, open-necked shirt and red leather jacket. His dark hair is messy but not unkempt, and his equally dark eyes laugh kindly. He's in a word  _gorgeous_. 

"I thought as much," he says. "I would have remembered seeing you." He smiles and you feel a blush rising. "Do you have family in London?"

"Yes, here in Eastcheap," you reply. "Do you?" Strangely enough, you want to continue this conversation with this handsome man.

"In London, yes. I live with my father and my brothers," he says, amicably. "But I spend most of my time here. I'm a regular low-life, I suppose." His name is Hal, he says.

He doesn't sound at all like a low-life, he sounds like a real gentleman, a lot different from the other men you've encountered here. You tell him as much. 

"What's a nice girl doing down here?" He asks, seemingly ignoring your similar statement. "You should be in a nicer section of town."

You blush. He orders drinks for the two of you, and some stew. He's on Christian name basis with the drawer, a nervous boy named Francis. 

Another young man bounds up. He's also handsome, and could be his younger brother except for his lighter complexion and hair. Your companion is obviously good friends with him.

"Who's the girl?" The newcomer asks.

"That's no way to talk to my charming lady friend," Hal says and you feel special. "Ignore him," he says, turning back to you. "Ned's a regular scoundrel." 

Ned makes a face like he's offended, but breaks into a smile. He claps Hal on his shoulder. He says something about someone named Falstaff and leaves. 

Hal turns his attentions back to you and you again feel special. When it's time for you to leave he takes your hand and kisses it. You don't admit it but you want him to kiss you more, and not just your hand. When you draw your hand away you find that he has pressed into it... a package of sugar. A penny-weight of sugar! He certainly is a sweet talker, this young man, you think as you head up to your room. And he is certainly more than the brigand he claims to be. He could be a prince. 

You fall on the straw mattress and imagine it- meeting a real prince. You'd never be so lucky. This young man will have to do, if you ever have the fortune to meet him again. You hope you do, maybe he'll kiss you more. Maybe you're just imagining things, but you fall asleep dreaming of your princely vagabond.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find yourself drawn closer to the handsome young man at the pub, but some things remain a secret...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello yes I am back and I did not expect this chapter to get so long, I didn't even expect there to be a second chapter but this story keeps growing and is not done yet. Hope you like it :3

As the weeks go on you spend your evenings in the Boar's Head pub and watch the charming young man named Hal. He's popular with everyone there and he's so clever. He either has you laughing at his wit or swooning at his more sensitive moments. He's always active, jumping up, wiggling in his seat, gesturing expressively. He can't sit still and it shows off his magnificent body. 

You find yourself not knowing if you want to yank off that red leather jacket, or everything he's wearing. The impure thought makes the thought even more enticing but you keep it to yourself. You are, after all, a good girl. He seems to believe so, anyway, and you want to impress him. You can't help liking him, of course, and you're in stitches when he dispels the crazy stories told by the fat old knight Falstaff, and you find yourself agreeing with him when he rails against that one knight from the North Country that the King seems to adore, over his own son. How could a father do such a thing? You're sure Hal's father loves him, he's such a clever boy. 

One of Hal's talents is mimicry. He does such perfect imitations of people, whether Falstaff or Francis, even his impersonation of the King seems real, although you've never actually seen the King. He often mocks his nemesis, the Northern warrior Percy, the one the King likes more than his own son. 

"Oh, Kate, I'll love you when I come back from battle," he says, pretending you're the Lady Percy, married to a man who thinks only of war. 

"If you remember to wash off the blood, I will let you," you reply.

One night he gets into a fight, alongside his friends Ned and Falstaff, against some other tavern regulars. You only see the tail end of the fight, and you don't know what started it, but you see the resilient old hostess chasing half the combatants out of the pub. Hal and Poins remain, the room oddly quiet after the action. Hal looks up and sees you, and he smiles. He calls your name.

"What happened?" You ask weakly as you approach. 

Ned fills you in on the fight but you barely listen. You're too worried about Hal, who has a bruise forming under his eye and a streak of blood on his cheek. Ned goes to get some bandages and something to clean Hal up with, and you remain standing in front of him. 

"It's not that bad," Hal says. He pats the space next to him on the bench he's sitting on. "Come sit with me." 

You hesitate, but you join him. Ned comes back soon with a basin and a pitcher of water, along with some cloth, which he sets on the table. He leaves again for a minute to deal with Falstaff and you're again left with Hal, the wounds, and that red jacket. 

He begins to take off is jacket and you reach out your hand. 

"Let me," you say. He stops and nods, letting you grip the smooth leather and gently ease it from his shoulders. He winces as you do so and you can't believe that you're actually living out that fantasy. The jacket is off before you realize it, and he's pulling off his white linen shirt. You don't help with that, just stare as his chest and arms are bared. He looks as good as you imagined. His muscles are sculpted perfectly, a patch of wiry hair dusts his chest and another line of hair trails -gulp- downward from his navel. 

"Hal, you got cut!" You say, eyes growing wide at the sight of a wound in his side that marred his perfect muscles and continues to drip blood.

"So I have," he mumbles. "I thought it hurt..." 

You pour some water in the basin and wet a cloth, then carefully begin cleaning his wounds, starting with the big slash in his side, just below his ribcage on his left side. He lets you wash him, and flinches but doesn't whimper at the pain. He's so brave. 

Then you move up, cleaning his chest and then his face. You're careful around his eyes as you clean up the cut on his forehead, avoiding the big bruise, which is just getting nastier. He's going to have a swollen face for a few days. As you run the cloth over his cheek, he reaches his hand up to yours. 

"Thank you," he whispers.

You don't know who moves first but then his lips are on yours, and your arms around his neck. You're kissing him, you're actually _kissing him_ , and it's just as wonderful as you've dreamed. You're delirious as he cups your cheek, his lips searching yours. Then it's over, and you're in a daze.

"I'm so sorry," you gasp, unable to believe yourself. 

"Don't be," Hal says, pressing his forehead on yours. "Don't be sorry..." 

"But Hal-" he silences you by laying a finger on your lips. He then pulls on his shirt. As he does, noise breaks in and you both turn to see Poins, Falstaff, and some others.

"Thank all the saints you are unharmed, Hal," Falstaff roars, stumbling over. "To think that I saved the life of the Prince..." 

_Prince?_

Ned clears his throat and Hal's face is unintelligible. 

"Prince?" You whisper. "You're the Prince?"

"Yes," he replies. "I am the Prince of Wales." 

"But that's not possible," you say, weakly. Your mind is racing. How can he be the Prince? Of course you always felt he could be a Prince, but on hearing it you don't know what to believe. 

"I'm sorry I made you believe otherwise," Hal says, standing up. "You've been such a charming companion I did not want you to think poorly of me as the Prince or to treat me different." 

You bow, getting down on your knees. The truth that you are in the presence of the heir to the kingdom is sinking in. 

"Kneel not, sweet _____," Prince Henry says, taking your hand. 

"Your Highness," you choke, remembering kissing him and all the fantasies you'd had. "I cannot express how ashamed I am-"

"Hush," he whispers. "We are not in my father's miserable court. Here I am Hal."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that you know Hal is the Prince, life continues with him and the pub. But war looms. What choice will your carefree Prince make?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops sorry this one ended up so feels-laden! Fortunately it will return to fluff soon. Thank you to Caelidra for Poins' contribution to the story ;)

Of course he was the Prince, he couldn't have been anyone else, and the stories of the riotous Prince Henry Monmouth were true. You have trouble with this information for days after, but he has not changed in his demeanor to you. He never says exactly what he's doing in Eastcheap, if he's hiding from his father or what, which you begin to wonder as you put it all together.

You still spend your evenings after work in your aunt and uncle's shop in the pub, and the regulars all know you- they're a strange bunch. Ned Poins, who is inseparable from Hal, Falstaff, who is a rascal if there ever was one but lovable, Bardolph with his fascinatingly misshapen nose and permanent face of a man who has given up, young Peto the cutpurse who is otherwise nice, the good-hearted prostitute Doll Tearsheet, the eternally befuddled drawer Francis, and the stately hostess Mistress Quickly, who tries (usually unsuccessfully) to keep these characters in line, on her own. You're beginning to think that Mr. Quickly doesn't exist. 

Ned has taken to writing songs about you and Hal, which he sings off-key, accompanied by lute, which he can't play but that never stops him. If there is something between you and the Prince Hal, you don't know- Ned sure seems to though. 

"And then the noble Prince was enraptured by the face of ______," Ned warbles loudly, grinning at the look of death Hal shoots him. "Prince Hal, Prince of Wales and Eastcheap, under the magic of- aaaiiiieeee!" His ballad is cut off by Hal lunging at him, crawling on the table and scrabbling for the lute, roaring at the sandy-haired would-be troubadour. Ned screams and you can't hold back laughter at the scene. You enjoy the sight of the two fighting over you. Here you feel at home.

But all good things come to an end. The once beloved Percy, who had taken the place of Hal in the King's affection, has rebelled and civil war hangs yet again over England. You know of Hal's rivalry with this Hotspur, but never did you think it would come to this- him telling you he must leave. 

"I must go," Hal says one morning. He's dressed in uniform, with the Plantagenet coat of arms. He is a dashing soldier now, looking more and more the Prince every day now. "I'll be joining my father at Shrewsburry." He takes your hands. "I've made my peace with him," he says, answering your unasked question. 

"Take care of yourself," you cry, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your face into his shoulder. His hand gently runs down your back and you wish- you wish you truly were lovers, as Ned had teased, that Hal would leave with the knowledge you loved him and you remain with the knowledge he loved you. 

"I will try, sweet ______," he replies, turning his head to kiss your cheek. A tear escapes your eye and he kisses that away. 

"I love you," you whisper, laying your head on his chest. "I love you, Prince Henry." 

"You are very dear," he says, kissing the top of your head and releasing you from his arms. You're saddened by this, you want him to never let him go. "I will see you when I return," he says, and with that cocky, winning smile he turns and leaves for war.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal returns from war, but is he a changed man?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long on this chapter. I've been extremely exhausted thanks to school. Thanks for sticking with me.

Rumor spreads that the rebels won the battle in Shrewsbury. The most horrible part is that people are whispering that the Prince- Hal- your Hal- is dead, killed by the so-called gallant Hotspur. You don't want to believe it. Night after night you find yourself clinging to Ned, crying. He tries to calm you down but he is just as scared as you. 

Then news comes from the West- everything has been misconstrued, and the king was victorious. Hal is alive. You feel as if your heart will burst with joy, Hal alive! You anxiously await the day that he returns. 

Waiting brings new worries, however. Now that he's a hero and back in his father's good graces, will Hal even want to come back to his old life of debauchery in Eastcheap? Will he want to return to you?

The answer comes soon enough when, in the fall, the Prince returns, sneaking in with Poins. You can't believe you didn't recognize them- disguised as drawers for slipping into the Boar's Head undetected and spying on Falstaff and Doll. There's an explosion of joy as Hal is reunited with Mistress Quickly, and annoyance from Falstaff at being spied on and mocked, but everyone is happy to see Hal.

You run up to him, throwing propriety to the wind and he catches you in a hug. 

"Hal, you made it!" You gasp, tightening your arms around him. Now that you have him again, you never want to let him go. 

"So I have," he replies. You're so thankful it's still the old Hal. His bearing is more mature, maybe, but still the young man. You look up at him, having longed to see his gorgeous face, and are taken aback.

"Hal! What happened to you?"

Hal closes his eyes. A long gash cleaves his right cheek, marring his beauty. It is in the process of healing, but it still is horrible.

"I was struck in the face by an arrow," he replies, covering his cheek with his hand. "I was saved by a wonderfully skilled surgeon, who was able to sew it up in time." He looks down at you. "I'm sorry, ________, I must look a monster now."

You're ashamed at yourself for thinking how bad he looked. How could you judge him that way... you find yourself laying your head on his chest, tears coming to your eyes, realizing what it was that truly scared you.

"Hal," you choke into his linen shirt, "I was so scared. I thought you were killed."

"Yes, rumor did spread that..." he says.

"I still think you're handsome," you say, reaching up to touch his cheek. You mean it.

He means it, too, when he puts his fingers under your chin and tilts your head up for a kiss. Your head goes light, just as it did the first time he kissed you after a much less important fight. You forget everything that has happened between then and now- finding out he was the Prince, the rebellion, his absence, the battle and wound that nearly claimed him. Now he is just Hal. 

That night finds the two of you snuggled together in front of the pub's fire pit. Hal tells you about his time away- about coming to terms with his father the King, the battle at Shrewsbury, killing Hotspur Percy. He's the one who did it. Fitting, the true Prince killing the rebel. Hal doesn't seem too happy about it, though. You stroke his hair as he admits it.

"He was a man, ______," he says. Your name sounds strange as he talks about killing another person. "Just a man, not the thing I always thought him. He was a man and weak at the end of battle."

"What did you think he was?" You ask, slightly worried about this sudden introspective turn in your Prince. 

"I suppose I thought he was better than me. Stronger. That he was stronger than anyone, like Hector or Achilles." 

You almost ask who they are but you don't have the chance. Hal rests his forehead on your shoulder. "Harry Hotspur was a human, he was a man with a wife and children. He may have been so highly honored, he had all those titles, but I thought wrong of him all this times..." you've never heard him babble so incoherently, and all you can do is put your arms around him.

Finally, his strength restored by your embrace, Hal looks at you. "I suppose I learned that people are not always what you think they be. Even yourself." His face is twisted by angst and the scar.

"And what do you think you are?" You ask. 

Hal sighs and runs his hands over his face. 

"I don't know," he replies. "What is it you think of me?"

Your stomach twists into a knot and you finally say what you've wanted to say for so long. "You are my Prince." 

Hal says nothing, just wraps his arms around you and rests his cheek on the top of your head. You can feel his heart beating next to you. "Thank you," he whispers, finally. Soon after you fall asleep in his arms.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry for not updating this for a month. School and other stuff took over my life so I haven't been able to write for fun. Now that the semester is ending and I'll have the summer off I'll be back to your adventure with Prince Hal!

It's a day where everything goes wrong. Your Aunt is not satisfied with your work, a customer yells at you, and you feel like a failure. After work is over for the day, you take a snack and decide to walk. Where, you don't care. You just need to clear your head and feel yourself. 

You find yourself in a park isolated from the noise and grime of London, the late afternoon sun painting the foliage gold. You're vaguely aware you're probably on a nobleman's property, but you don't really care about punishment. They punish people who hunt, anyway, probably not unarmed girls simply taking a walk. 

These days you haven't been around the pub. Things are changing and you're not quite sure why. One thing that is certain though is that you miss Hal. Now that he's back in his father's good graces, he's growing up and he's been away from the pub too. You've noticed he's been more mature, less given to pranks or mocking Falstaff or the others. Your Prince is growing up. 

As you walk through the beautifully cared-for flowers, you see him. Hal, lovely Hal, is here too. You almost can't believe it, but it is him. When he sees you his divided face twists into a charming grin, and he beckons you to approach. Another young man is with him, but it's not Poins. 

"What a surprise to see you here, ________!" Hal says, taking your hand and giving it a galant kiss. He turns to his companion. "This is my friend, ______, a truly lovely lady." 

You blush. Hal turns back to you and introduces you to his brother, John of Lancaster. You curtesy, still honored to be in the company of royalty. He tells John he'll meet him later, and as John leaves, Hal takes your arm. "Would you like to walk with me?" He asks. 

You immediately agree. 

"Hal," you finally ask after the two of you have walked a while in peace, "are you alright?" You've noted his silence and the pensive expression he wears. 

"I'm fine," he replies. "I just have much to think of." 

"How is your father?" You ask, knowing he must be thinking of his family and the situation with the rebels. Hotspur may be dead but Northumberland and Glendower still live and fight. 

"The king is concerned with the country's affairs as always," Hal replies. 

You stop walking and tug his arm so he looks at you. "I mean _your father,_ " you repeat. "The man. Not the king." 

Hal looks down and reaches for your hands. "My father is sick," he says finally, entwining his long fingers in yours. "I'm worried about him." 

"You love him," you reply. 

"Yes." 

"He loves you too," you say. He doesn't ask you how you know. It's just as well, since you don't know why you have that feeling but you do. But you don't want your prince to be sad, and you tug him back into a walk.

The two of you stop in a small grove of trees in the park, and you sit with your backs to one of the trees. You take out the snack you brought from home and share it with Hal. You talk about things other than the kingdom. He asks you to tell him more about your home, deep in the quiet countryside, so you describe the little farms and flocks of sheep. 

"I'd like to go there someday," he says, closing his eyes. You find yourself, as always, transfixed by his sleepy eyes, but you try to focus on the flowers in your hands as you weave a crown. When it's finished, you carefully place it on his brow. He looks good in a crown.

"I could get used to this kind of crown," he says with a smile. You break into a smile too. He looks _perfect_ in a crown. 

Hal still looks tired, and you beckon him closer and have him rest his head on your lap. He closes his eyes and the two of you rest there in the glow of the sunset, both filled with peace and warmth. You forget the world and waste time with your prince, until night sets in and he reluctantly stirs while you're still stroking his hair. 

Hal straightens the crown of flowers you gave him and he takes your hand. You feel that warmth again as he walks with you back into the crowded, dirty city, which is no place for a prince. You feel, however, as he sees you safely home, that anywhere is made better by his presence- and it seems to be the mark of a true king.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so we draw near to the ending! Sorry for taking so long on this. Enjoy! There will be a short epilogue coming soon to tie up loose ends but this is the final main part!

The kingdom falls silent in mourning. Henry IV is dead, finally succumbing to the stress of his troubled reign. Now Hal must ascend the throne. You know he will be a good king, you know the real Hal- not the foolish boy that everyone believed him to be, but the smart, grave, but self-doubting man. 

He throws aside his riotous youth. You know this has been completed when Poins comes into the Boar's Head one day, his face long. 

"Hal said goodbye to me," he says simply. He then bursts into tears and mumbles something about being a disgrace to the Prince. You hug Poins and you know Hal is never coming back. 

The day of Hal's coronation dawns bright. You dress yourself in the best clothes and go to join the rest of London in watching the new king pass by in his splendor. You and Poins have decided to go together. You wish Doll could be there with you as you set out through the busy streets. Right now she's being held in prison and you don't know what will become of her. It seems there is a stark contrast of light and darkness in your life.

The crowds fill the streets as you and Poins try to get a good vantage point. You elbow past some people and jump up on tiptoe to see better, but it doesn't help. Then there's an opening in the crowd and the two of you take it. You find yourself at the side of the street, in the front of the crowd. Ned has been clinging to your hand all through this battle and you're thankful he has, otherwise you would have misplaced him as soon as you entered the press. 

The king's guard of knights and nobles passes by. It's quite an impressive display, and you've never seen knights in full armor before. Then the king appears, astride a stallion as handsome as its rider. He looks absolutely magnificent, dressed in full regalia and with the crown glinting on his brow. You strain your neck to watch him until he is out of your eyesight, replaced in the procession by other, less handsome nobles. 

The crowd is deafening so you don't tell Poins the feelings that swell up in you. You are so proud of him, the prince is now the king and he looks the part. However, he looks different. He looks so much older, so much graver and almost not at all like the devilishly charming young man that so long ago had sweet-talked you and pressed a pennyworth of sugar into your hand your first evening in Eastcheap. 

He no longer looks like Hal. 

The king will hold a sort of audience with his subjects at the end of the ceremonies and you decide to go, Poins in tow, although he decides to hang back. He doesn't want to face the king, the man who has somehow broken his heart. You find yourself in yet another crowd at Westminster, waiting in the gangs of everyday citizens thrumming with excitement at the prospect of seeing their monarch up close. You're not sure what other people feel about him- some probably feel he's going to be yet another mismanaging or trouble-ridden king like the two before him. Others probably look upon him and see the wastrel that he was before his father's death and they assume he will continue to frequent pubs and ignore his duties for the pleasures of the flesh. 

Hopefully others see in him what you do. A young man with incredible strength that he is just learning to use. 

You've somehow fallen into a crowd of nobles. Fortunately no one seems to take note of you, but as the king comes near something in you snaps. Maybe it's the noise, which at this point you barely hear any more, maybe it's the excitement and stress of the day or maybe it's your own thoughts taking over but you cry out.

"Henry!" The name falls from your lips and you barely hear it, barely realize you even said it. 

The king hears though. He turns around and scans the crowd and then his eyes- those beautiful, sleepy eyes, meet yours. 

"Do you want us to deal with this wanton woman?" Asks a young man beside him. 

"No, Humphrey," the king replies, walking closer to you. You start to shrink back into the throng, hoping to hide in the mass of bodies. You have just done the unthinkable. Then the king reaches forth his hand. "Hello, ________," he says, his voice sweet and honest. You can't believe you're hearing your name from him once again. If only Poins were here. Now that he is at arm's length you can see the boy you fell in love with. It does nothing to calm you though. 

"I beg your pardon, your majesty," you say, curtsying and trying to keep from shaking, "I cry your mercy, my lord. Forgive me-"

"Hush," he says, reaching for your hand. You surrender it to the firm but gentle warmth of his. "Don't be sorry. It's good to see you again." Out of the corner of your eye you see the young man, Humphrey (wouldn't that make him the king's youngest brother, Humphrey of Glouchester?) distracting the nobles from the strange scene of the king talking to a shabby girl. You pray it works.

You're hit with a pang of love, but then a pang of realization. He can never love you, he will never be with you. He can't marry a lowly peasant girl, he has to marry a princess. Maybe from France, not a girl living in the slums- even the ones he had frequented as a dissolute youth. 

"Henry, I love you," you moan, tears coming to your eyes. "I don't want you to forget me." You feel so selfish. He has more important things on his mind than the silly girl from the pub. 

"And I never will, ______," he says, full of tenderness. "I regret that we will not share much of our time as our paths diverge, but you have meant so much to me." He wipes a tear from your cheek and you're reminded of the day he left for his first battle so log ago. "You've believed in me," he continues, "even when I have not believed in myself. And you have filled me with determination. I now feel I can be king, and I have you to thank for the support." He smiles and you're set on fire. 

"Henry, I know you'll be a great king," you say, looking down at your hands. He gently lifts your chin so you look at him. "You need to return to your nobles," you say. 

"I see you called me Henry," he says, ignoring what you said.

"I didn't notice..." You reply, realizing that you have indeed called him Henry rather than Hal.

"A new name for a new man," he says after a moment of thought. He then kisses your hand gallantly, and it burns as you see him doing just that on your first night in the pub. "I will not forget you, ________. Take care of Ned for me." He pauses. "Please do not forget yourself," he says finally. "I believe in you." 

You somehow stop the tears that are forming and you say your goodbyes as the king must move on. Of course he must move on, he cannot dwell on the past. His parting words lay heavy on your heart but in a good way as you turn and make your way through the crowd. 

"There you are," Poins says, when he spots you. He sees your face, which must be a combination of smiles and tears. "Are you alright?"

You nod. "I saw the king," you say. 

Poins looks like he's been slapped. "What's he like?" He asks, as if he hadn't spent years running with the former dissolute prince. 

"He-" you don't know how to describe him now. "He's changed," you finally say. "But in a good way. He's become a man that will be a good king." 

Poins' expression softens a bit. You know Hal broke his heart and you don't know if anything you say can make him feel any better about the situation. 

"He said he won't forget us," you say, amending the king's words just a little.

Poins smiles and it's a real smile, the one of a man given hope. "Come on," he says, offering you his arm. "Let's go get something to eat. I saw a place selling pies that smelled good." You take his proffered arm and smile. Pies. That sounds nice. You don't tell Poins about the king's request that you take care of him, but you get the feeling that you'd take the opportunity to do so if it were offered. 

So you set out into the future remembering that first night in the pub when you met a handsome young man that captured your heart. You had seen the prince in him when others didn't and he had seen something in you. Now you see a king, one that will be remembered for all history as great, but you will always remember him as your prince. Your sweet honey lord.


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the finale! Two years have passed since Henry V took the throne, but have things changed or stayed the same for you?
> 
> There is quite the twist revealed here, so be ready for a surprise.

Two Years Later 

The newsreader announces the latest from the war in France and you join the small crowd around him. The baby is squirming in your arms and you balance the day's laundry on your hip- it's been a long day and it's cold, both of you are anxious to get home. 

"The latest from France!" The newsman shouts. "Where lately our King did fight a bloody battle against the French at Agencourt!" 

It's still so strange to hear about the king. Some days he seems to be a distant memory, others it's like he's right there with you. The thought of him in battle still terrifies you, just as it did years ago when he fought at Shrewsbury.

"The English forces were vastly outnumbered by the French," the newsreader continues and the fear in you continues to rise. "But the English archers overwhelmed the French and Henry was victorious! The King will return to England after the treaty has been struck." The crowd erupts into cheers and you're flooded with relief. Henry is safe and victorious! You cheer along with the crowd, the baby adding his voice in displeasure with the noise. 

You hurry across the square to your husband's workshop. 

"He's alright!" You exclaim. "He won and he's coming back to England!" 

Ned jumps up from his workbench and runs to you. "Thank God," he says, embracing you, excited but careful of the baby. "He's alive..." He looks down at the baby and grins. "You hear that, Harry? Your Uncle Henry is a hero and beat the French!" Baby Harry gurgles something, probably a baby version of "So what?" and you and Ned both laugh. The two of you are happy, far away from London and your pasts. Ned has left his thieving days behind and grown up, just like the prince. 

"I'll see you at dinner," your husband says, quickly kissing your forehead. "Go find Francis and tell him the news." You nod, still numb with joy. As you head out to find Francis, who manages the local pub somehow despite being quite possibly the most easily confused man in the kingdom, you wrap Harry up to keep him warm- it's so cold, you need to get inside soon. You can't wait to tell Francis of King Henry- Hal's- victory. 

Some days he's Henry to you. Some days he's Hal.

"You may never know your Uncle Henry," you say to the baby, "but he'd love you. And you're going to be just like him when you grow up, I'm sure." Of course, that means plenty of trouble ahead for you as you raise the next Hal, which is certainly likely under Ned's tutelage, but you'll deal with that when it comes. 

For now you see the year coming to an end with victory and glory for that sweet honey lord, your first love and the hero of all England.


End file.
